Redemption
by RingsAkhaten
Summary: After the events of Devil's Fortress, Don Diego recieves a nightly-and most unwelcome-visitation and keeps a nightly vigil.
1. Chapter 1

Alejandro sighed, drawing his hand across his brow, then returned his face to press against the glass of the window.

It was there, out in the distance. If he squinted, the Don could just make out the flicker of the lantern's light.

He had returned to the graveyard again. Tonight-even tonight-Diego's own birthday-as he had every night since those cursed events at Devil's Fortress.

Luis Ramone was six months in his grave and yet still Diego lamented, attending this nightly, moroseful vigil for reasons beyond his father's comprehension.

Madre de Dios...the man had been evil. A tyrant, a bully and a cheat, how many lives had he tried to ruin and yet Diego despaired with an intensity that rivaled that even of his Mother's passing.

The light was growing larger, more steady now.

For tonight at least, his son's ritual had ended, and he would soon return, slouching and forlorn with the weight of the world within his eyes, but this-Alejandro promised himself-this would be the very last night.

He had tried-as a father should-to respect his son's wishes and allow him the privacy of his own actions and thoughts, but the Don had long suspected that some part of Diego's life was concealed from him.

Somehow, in some way, even beyond the grave, Luis Ramone had touched that part of his son's life and now threatened to destroy his sanity.


	2. Chapter 2

Diego's brow furrowed, contracting violently, his heart racing, as once more it began.

_Diego._

His long body tossed, rigid with tension, tearing at his bedcovers in response to the impossible velvet voice, tingled with malice and madness.

_Diego._

He recoiled, drawing away from the gentle, always accusing voice, ever twisting it's blade in his heart, from the delicate pressure of the hand laid comfortingly on his shoulder.

_You killed me, Diego._

The bright blue eyes were tightened in fury, the leather clad fingers reaching out to dig into the flesh of his arm. As he had so many, many times, Diego closed his inward eyes and pleaded for the vision to leave him. The grip tightened then, forcing him to see.

Luis Ramone, living still, stood over his bed, a powerful, stark vision, clad in black from his hands to his feet, his foil at his hip, his fine features contorted in rage.

_You failed me, Diego._

"No." Diego cried out then, covering his ears and squeezing his eyes tight shut. He could not bear to look again into those soft, earnest blue eyes and to see all that was lost. Then the soft touch at his shoulder swept downward, encircling and intertwining the bare flesh of their palms.

"Luis." Diego entreated, using the name in death he had never used in life. "Luis, please."

He saw then, and wept, as always at the sight.

Luis Ramone, living no more, kneeling at the side of his bed, his golden hair caressing at the lapels of his brilliant white suit, his eyes reflecting pools of Diego's own torment.

_You let me fall._

Leather clad figures dug into his flesh, trailing deep scratches, shards of black fragments embedding his wounds. Crazed, frenzied eyes bore into his own.

_You knew Diego. You knew I was inside him all along._

Naked fingers brushed at his cheeks, belying the whispered words and soothed Diego's stinging tears. The hand within his own released to join them, the beautiful, compassionate eyes so close now to his own.

_You tormented me. Humiliated me._

Then the gloves were clasped about his throat, the wild eyes widened. Luis Ramone-still living-was drawing out his life.

_Every time you hurt him, he hurt me. Driving me down further and further inside until I was only a flicker without even a voice._

Luis Ramone, gone forever, cradled his shivering body in his arms as Diego sobbed into his golden hair.


	3. Chapter 3

A chill was rising in the air, ahead, a thin, grey line on the horizon revealed the oncoming rain, but none of this mattered. Diego no longer felt the warmth and light of the sun, his world was evermore cold and grey.

It was a long, and difficult journey to the graveyard, dusty when dry and muddy when wet, and as always, he was unaccompanied, at least in the flesh.

Luis Ramone, not lost, seemed never to leave him now, his nightly visitations lingering into the quiet moments of Diego's days. He stood now, posed, poised, disrespectfully-and proudly-leaning on the tombstone that bore his name. His dark garments, and darker expression obscured what little remained of the light.

_Come to gloat, again, Diego?_

"I never have and never will and well you know it." the often-spoken words formed in Diego's mind but never left his lips. They had argued so much in the beginning, but now he had no voice to speak.

_Diego, you are only one who comes._

Luis Ramone, ever lost, stands now beside him, his hair caught by the wind, aglow in the rays of the dying sunlight, his white suit shimmering and as always, Diego scarcely bear to look upon him.

Instead he kneels, in the careworn place to pray for the man's lost soul.

_I'm in hell, Diego, burning evermore. You condemned me._

The gloved hand digs into his chin, lifting his head to the blazing eyes, then strikes him to the ground with a single blow.

_I can hear your prayers, Diego. They are the only ones my soul receives._

"Luis, forgive me."

Diego's words are broken, but his gift, shielded within his sleeve, is still whole.

Luis Ramone's grave is always lonely, but it always has flowers.


End file.
